Butterknife
by MissDarcy
Summary: At the end of Agatha Christie's Murder on the Links, newly married Captain Hastings moves to Argentina. This is the story of his family there. (with special guest appearances by Hercule Poirot and Japp).
1. Book One: Frances

Book One: Frances  
  
On May nineteenth, 1920 my mother stood up abruptly from whatever she was doing and loudly declared in that North American accent, which is all her own, "Juana, I think you had better get Dr. Paldito right away. And," she called after her, "get the captain, he's out in the fields with Pedro, and tell him its coming!" Ten hours later, she gave birth to me. I was a relatively easy baby. My mother said that I was always that way. When I had finally gone to sleep, my father sat down next to my mother on their bed and enfolded her in an embrace. "What shall the baby's name be?" "Well, I was leaning toward a British name, so that she'll keep that darling accent of yours more easily." My father hugged her closer. "But then I started thinking. 'Don't we owe something to our grandparents?' After that I found it fairly obvious. The name must either be Nina or Frances. Frances was your grandmother's name, right?" "Yes it was. My paternal grandmother. I don't remember my other one because she died before I was born." "Anyway, since those are both Irish names, I thought it was just as well. I love the name Nina, but it has a kind of helpless ring, and this baby is so sweet you know, so I finally decided on Frances, with an "E." That's the girls' spelling. It is, isn't it?" She lifted her pretty face with its elfin appearance and dark dancing eyes surrounded by shining black hair up toward my father's. Her looks were quite the contrast to my father's brownish blond hair, deep blue eyes, and straight nose. He looked like the typical English man, whereas my mother was a rare beauty of North America. 'She's so pretty,' thought my father,' and so brave.' he added, thinking of the circumstance that had caused them to meet. He kissed her on the end of her nose and started thinking of middle names.  
  
Two years later, Charlie was born. I only remember bits of his birth. He was more difficult, and it took my mother two hours. She yelled all the way through. I sat outside the room with my father, playing with my toys. He winced at each cry. Looking back, I realize that each yell was tearing him to the heart and he was afraid of losing her. At the time I didn't seem to see much, but I knew enough to reach my small arms around him and squeeze. Soon we heard a long shrill wail. I remember the relief on Father's face. "That's your brother Charlie, Frances." When I was three, Charlie was one. We used to go out in the fields with Father and the men. Charlie would ride on Father's shoulders and I would ride on Pedro's. Pedro was our ranch hand. I never trusted him, which was odd, because next to my parents the person I loved most in the world was his wife, Juana. Pedro and Juana were ten years younger than my parents, but hardly looked their 24 years and Pedro hardly acted it. He let me ride on his back and he told me stories of the wild jungles we could see from our ranch on the Pampas. While these actions should have promoted love, they only caused fear. Pedro was from Brazil. He had battled with a jaguar and survived. Although jaguars seldom ventured out of their jungle habitat in most of Argentina, they were often seen near our cattle because we were so close to the jungle. My sister Judith was born that year. She was by far the most difficult. At the time, my childish mind thought it was because of her looks. I had my father's hair, eyes, and nose. There was nothing of my mother in me, except her intellect, as I learned later. Charlie and Judith were a completely different story. They had jet-black hair, like my mother, and dark black eyes, like my mother. The only thing missing was the thing that they could have inherited from either Father or Mother, a broad grin. This I had, and I was glad of it. In Judith's first years, I would catch Mother looking at Judith and Charlie with worry in her face. I didn't understand it then. I do now. Judith was serious as a baby, as she is now. She never smiled but, where Charlie howled at ungodly hours, Judith remained silent as a rock. I was eight when I got up the courage to ask her about it. "Judith, you aren't any fun. Why won't you play with me?" The pale five-year-old looked up at me and smiled. It was not a kind smile, but more of a sad one. "Teach me how Franny. Teach me how."  
  
I was fourteen. I was curious. It was inviting. It was Judith's idea. My whole life I had wanted to explore the neighboring jungle and when my little sister expressed the same desire, I couldn't stop her.... or myself. Judith was eleven and had never done anything out of the ordinary. Her whole life consisted of: Wake up, go to school, come back home, do schoolwork, go to bed, and so on. One morning, after a large rain (school was closed because of muddy roads) Judith woke me at six in the morning and we set off. We tiptoed past Charlie's room. My thirteen-year-old brother was completely his own master and would not tell Mother and Father, but he would want to go too. As Judith always says, "Two's company; three's a crowd." It was hard negotiating the ground near Mother and Father's room. Judith thinks Father loosened the floorboards there on purpose so they creaked. I told her that it was nonsense, but none the less, she persisted in thinking so. We finally made it outside just as the sun was rising. Judith wasn't quite sure how we were going to get to the mile away forest, but knew that she wouldn't waste any energy. I was perfectly content to walk. It was a lovely morning but, as Judith put it, we would be doing lots of walking in the jungle and we would need all our strength. In the end, Judith purloined a little foal; a runt and just right for our purpose. We both got on its back and Judith urged it into a trot. Within no time we were in the jungle. The first thing Judith did was to send the foal back. She pointed it in the direction of the ranch and slapped it on the rear end. It took off in a flash. "Judith, was that wise? What if we're hurt and can't walk? We'd need the foal then." "Nothing's going to happen. I've brought Mother's kitchen knife." I rolled my eyes but went along with it.  
  
In about two hours, I was getting tired. Judith still wanted to push on and find a river, but I wanted to go home. "Let's start walking back. Maybe we'll find a river on the way." Judith sulked and said nothing. I started walking ahead. Judith had taken the lead all day, but she refused to do it now. I had not gone ten paces before I heard rushing water. I called out to Judith and at the same time looked down and saw to my horror that what I had taken for bushes were actually the tops of trees. With a sinking feeling I felt the earth under my feet move. "Judith," I whispered," don't move." "What do you mean?" she asked and poked me with a stick. That was it. The ground under my feet started to crumble and I found myself falling. The next thing I remember was water. And it was cold too. It was filling my lungs. I couldn't breath. Then I found my strength and fought to the top. I choked and gasped, spitting up water and replenishing my stock of fresh air. Only then was I aware of my predicament. When I looked up I could see a cliff above the canopy of trees. It was one hundred some feet high and massive limbs of equally massive trees supported it. Judith was waving to me and shouting my name. She sounded frightened. I spit out the last of my water and bellowed loud enough that it would reach her, "Meet you back at the ranch!" I was then submerged again and when I came back up, she was gone. Then I fell to hoping against rapids, sharp rocks, and above all: waterfalls. Soon I found myself drifting towards the edge of the river. I got out as fast as I could and stumbled off to the side to ponder my position. My parents would certainly send a party out after me when Judith arrived, if they hadn't already done so. Pedro would probably be leading it, seeing as he knew the forest the best. That thought got me up and moving to try and get home myself. I didn't really want to be in the forest with Pedro. I looked at the sun and, judging from its position, headed north. I had been walking for about an hour when I started to hear the sound of wind rushing across the tall grasses of the Pampas. I broke into a run, which was more like a hobble because my leg smarted painfully (it had probably hit a tree going down.) When I arrived at the edge of the plain I could distinguish our house. I walked quickly over the grassland and very soon I was there. I was within ten paces of the house when my father burst out. Following him was Judith, sobbing hysterically. They both stopped in their tracks when they saw me. Judith made a small gurgling sound, and then flew back towards the house as one chased by Satan, yelling, "Mother! Oh Mother...Charlie! Charlie!" In the end she resorted to the American word taught by my mother and sent up a final shriek of, "MOMMY!!!" as she entered the house. All this while my father had stood as if he were tethered to his spot. When Judith went in the spell was broken and he rushed forward to embrace me tightly. While I was still enfolded in his bear hug, Mother arrived. I was frightened when she joined us, for she was due any day now with a little girl and she was deadly pale, looking as if she would faint. Father backed up to give her and me air, trying to be British and control his emotions, but it wasn't working very well. Mother was moved beyond tears. She hugged me, repeating over and over again that she had thought I had "kicked the bucket." I replied that I had not and this only caused her to sob. I remember walking into the house and being laid down, but I remember nothing more. I must have been asleep many hours when I was woken by an unearthly shriek, signaling the arrival of my little sister. Nina was perfect. If Judith looked like Charlie, Nina looked like me. She was the little sister I had always wanted, and waited so long to get. True, her first glimpse of me was of a mud-bespattered girl with a cut lip and circles under her eyes, but she took an immediate liking to me. On a sourer note, Mother almost died having Nina, and agreed when Dr. Paldito said, "No more babies." I took care of Nina as if she were my own child. When Charlie went off to dissect a dead cow (or something else morbid) or Judith left to be alone and think dark thoughts to her, I would play with Nina. At first I spoiled her a little, but then I stiffened up and treated her as a good parent would. Three years later I let go and let her run rampant a bit. I was studying for my upcoming test to graduate from secondary school and I needed more free time to myself. Nina took a great liking to the cows. Every spare moment she was out in the field with Father and Pedro and the men and, of course, the cows.  
  
One morning, I had just risen and was about to wake Judith. Nina's cot was empty, but then again, this was normal. The ranch hands and Father went out at dawn. I shook Judith and was about to tell her that it was her turn to make the bed, when lightening struck and the clouds burst, sending rain down. I left Judith alone and rushed to wake Charlie. Charlie and I, as the eldest two children, had the responsibility to help the men bring the cows in and cover the crops. So close to the rain forest, the rain can come down in sheets, killing all vegetation for miles around. That's why we must cover the crops and grazing grass. When we arrived outside, Charlie still wiping sleep from his eyes, we found that since a storm had been brewing all week, that the cows hadn't been let out that morning. We counted our blessings and then fell to covering the vegetation. We got them all covered before the big storm hit, the one that would probably flood the roads and close school. As we ran inside with all the others, I began to pray for rain on my test day. It was a tradition that on days that it rained everyone would crowd into our kitchen for a cup of hot chocolate. Father hated the stuff, but he had taught the art of making it to my mother. When I asked him why he knew how to do it if he didn't like it, he told me that he had picked it up from a friend of his. As I sat in the kitchen with everyone around me, I felt a sense of family. What would make it perfect now was Nina to toddle up to me and say, "Franny, can I have some chocolate?" I reached out to hug Nina, but instead my hand whapped Judith on the back of the head. I felt what seemed like an electrical shock flow through my body. I sat up straight. Mother caught my movements. "Frances, is anything the matter?" "No, nothing." I got up and slowly left the room. Charlie and Judith followed me. Judith, who has the uncanny ability to almost read your mind, spoke first. "You lost Nina, didn't you?" "I didn't lose her! Anyhow, how did you know that I had.... we had lost her anyway?" "You and Father are so easy to analyze." That was all she said, but she put so much scorn into how she said it that I had to retort in a similar tone. "You think you're so clever Miss Scientist. How you and Charlie go out to cut up dead cows for The Sake of Science is beyond me. And you can stop using that word alynize..." "Analyze." "I'll say it how I please! .... that word analyze on Father and I! We may be a bit thick but..." I couldn't go on. I had worked myself into a regular temper tantrum and by this time I was choking on my own words. I wheeled around and flew out the door and into the rain. I yelled for Nina until my lungs were sore from the air mixed with water rushing through them and making them raw. I then ran into the barn so that I wouldn't have to confront Mother and Father and Judith and Charlie and Pedro and..... did I just hear something? I walked around the corner of a fencepost and found Nina, cuddled up against the cows and heartily snoring. I also heard footsteps. I whirled around, ready to confront Pedro, or Judith at the least, but I found myself face-to-face with Father instead. "Frances, what went on in there?" I looked at the floor. I never liked to hurt Father's feelings toward me and I felt by now as if I had committed murder, theft, and... well, murder. I muttered something incoherent and pointed to Nina, all the while staring fixedly at the floor. Father took me outside to where there was a little overhang of the barn roof and there we stood, watching the rain. Finally Father spoke, "You've been a very good sister Frances. Your mother and I... find that we couldn't go on without you. I think that Judith and Charlie couldn't either. I.... I think that it would be helpful to your mother and I...well, if you could look after Charlie and Judith and let Nina grow up on her own..." I was a little hurt. Up until that moment I thought Mother and Father had completely approved of my doings. Father must have seen my hurt, for he quickly added, "You've been doing a jolly good job Frances, but we think that if you put your kindness toward some real good.... "What do you mean, "real good?" As far as I can see, raising Nina to be a lovely young girl is a good cause." "Your Mother and I believe that if Charlie has some good influence in his life, such as yourself, he might not become what he's becoming." "What is he becoming?" Father spoke cautiously. "Your brother is consorting with the wrong sort of person more often. He is friends with the wrong sort of boys at school, and he has even been picking up all sorts of undesirable habits here." "Here?" I asked astonished, "who would there be here of all places to teach him anything we wouldn't approve of?" "Frances," Father answered my inquiry with a question of his own, "you knew that Pedro battled a jaguar and survived?" "Yes," I whispered, too curious to offer a longer response. "Well, did you also know that he killed a man?" I did not trust myself to speak. I had always suspected something of the kind, but I had never in my wildest dreams thought of murder! "He would have gotten off scot-free if there hadn't been a girl who had witnessed the whole thing. A mere child, but she landed him in prison for ten years." I made a sort of gasping noise, and then settled down to hear the rest of what Father had to say. "Charlie takes a great interest in the detection of crime, like myself," Father always liked a good detective thriller, but said that the detectives didn't know "half the tricks of the trade," whatever that meant, "but," he added continuing, "he approaches it from the wrong side I find." "Do you mean he has the methods down the wrong way?" "No, I mean that he is just a bit more interested in the criminal than the detective." While I digested this bit of information, I asked, "And Judith?" "Judith is not, as far as I know, interested in pursuing the same line of work as Charlie, however she has lots of time to think for herself and I have reason to believe that her thoughts are not good ones." Of course, Father might think this of any woman who had time to think, but instead of smiling at this comment, as I usually do, I hung on his words with rapt curiosity. However, he said nothing more, but turned to leave. I ran after him and accosted him. "Why are Charlie and Judith acting this way?" I inquired, rain dribbling down my face. Father paused before he replied to my question. "Your mother and I think that it is something hereditary." Again he turned to go and again I stopped him. "What hereditary flaw?" This pause lasted a full minute. Finally Father said, "Your mother's brother was convicted for murder."  
  
I proposed a trip to London. Charlie instantly agreed, but Judith was harder to convince. She came up with every excuse on earth, but in the end she ran out of excuses and meekly obeyed, which in itself was odd, for Judith never did anything meekly. We left that Saturday. I was sad to leave, because it would be my last day at the ranch for four years, or more. I'd been accepted into a college just outside of London. I hugged my mother and father and we left. Our boat left from Montevideo, Uruguay the next day, and the time it took to get there was spent on a train. Finally we boarded the boat and set sail. Immediately Charlie became acquainted with the fact that he was prone to be seasick. He spent most of the voyage leaning over the rail, his face an odd green color. Judith spent most of her time with the sailors, learning the arts of sailing, the scientific aspects of the ocean, and whatnot. I looked forward to my studies, but I hated leaving the place that had influenced my life. I was caught up in these revelations when someone yelled, "Plymouth!" and I was startled out of my dream. As I watched the coast of Plymouth approaching, I wondered what the future had in store for me, and what things would change my life. 


	2. Book Two: Charlie

Book Two: Charlie  
  
I was not in the best of spirits when I stepped off that blasted boat. I had discovered that I was just a wee bit prone to seasickness, much to my younger sister, Judith's, mirth. We boarded a train to London, which didn't have me feeling any better. Judith and I had come on a holiday to London with my older sister Frances, who was going to be going to a college there. When we stepped off the train, Frances hurried off heaven-knows-where to get us a cab. For my part, I sat down on a stack of newspapers, my head between my hands, trying to come to the realization that I was on land while Judith snickered at me from behind her hand. "Stow it!" I said roughly. Judith stopped at once. Not because of my exclamation, but because of the fact that Frances was coming back. "I've gotten us a cab. Charlie, are you all right? You look sick." "Not sick, downright green around the gills!" was Judith's comment. I chose to ignore it. "I'll be better soon now that we're off that thumping ship!" Frances led us to where the cab was waiting and we all got in. The first thing I noticed was how big it was. The second thing was that the cabby was asking Frances something. "Where to?" "Um.... Charlie?" she turned around to me. "Would you rather drop our things at my dorm first or would you rather look up Father's friend?" "Your dorm by all means! Drive on Jeeves!" and then I fell asleep.  
  
I was awaked by Frances gently shaking me. "We're there." So I saw. The campus was a pretty place and her dorm looked to be one of the nicest in sight. I was startled by all the green. Everywhere I looked there was carefully trimmed grass. On every other dorm green there was a blossoming fruit tree. I slowly got out of the cab. Frances paid the cabby and we walked into her dorm, which looked more like the medieval castles in Nina's King Arthur fairytales than what I imagined a dorm should look like. Francis had a small room that she would share with a roommate that had not arrived yet. I was given one bed and Judith and Frances shared the other, as they did at home. After we got all of our things unpacked and put in drawers, we walked down to the bus stop and got on one headed towards Portland Place. This worthy establishment proved to be an immensely huge apartment building that was somewhat square in shape. "Who would want to live in this monstrosity?" asked Judith. She obviously shared my views on the subject. "You'd think everything taller than our barn was a monstrosity," said Frances, the beginnings of a smile playing on her lips. Sometimes Frances is so sweet, it scares me. "Nonetheless," I said, "who would want to live here?" "Father's friend Mr......" Frances paused and screwed up her face, looking at a name on a piece of paper, " Mr.... Parrot, no. Mr. Pirate? Ah, I've got it! Mr. Poirot." "Sounds French," I observed, leaning against a tree. "It most likely is." And without much further ado, Frances started into the building.  
  
We took the elevator up seven flights. None of us had ever been in an elevator before, so it was a new experience. Judith made a somewhat uncouth remark about elevatorsickness, which I chose to ignore. When we reached number 1, Frances boldly knocked on the door. "Mais, enter then!" Frances tried the door and found it locked. "It's locked." "Dommage. Do not derange yourself. Just a little instant." I almost died laughing at his " Do not derange yourself," but Frances glared at me and I was immediately silent. Soon, a little man opened the door. He had an egg- shaped head, suspiciously jet-black hair, and, best of all, the hugest set of moustaches I had ever seen. "Ah, come in." We walked into the apartment. It was symmetrical even to the point that on the coat rack there was a grey coat on the right, a blue coat in the middle, and a grey coat on the left. I found this all dashed amusing. When we had all seated ourselves, Frances started to introduce us. "I'm..." "But wait! You will permit me to guess?" Frances offered no objection so he leaned back and closed his eyes. Judith rolled her eyes at me and I returned her gesture. We had always been sure that Father was a bit daft, but Frances idolized him so we never said so out loud. Either this clinched our suspicions, or we had wondered into the wrong apartment. Suddenly the little man started forward with a jerk. He said nothing, but grabbed Judith's arm, who was closest to him, and pulled her toward him. He kissed her once on each cheek and, to my horror, started towards me. "Now... look here," I protested, jumping up and putting my chair between he and myself. To my annoyance, he merely started laughing. "But of course! If you are who I think you are that action was not unexpected, Charlie." "How on earth did you know my name?" I asked. As if it isn't unnerving enough to have a lunatic Frenchman chasing you around a room, he has to know things you don't recall telling him also. "Well?" "Your father told me of course! Et maintenant Mademoiselle Hastings...." Frances giggled, much to my chagrin, and didn't protest when he embraced her in that frightening fashion of his. "Perhaps you'd better explain Mr. Poirot," said Frances. "I'm perfectly content to wait in the dark, but if you don't tell my brother what's going on soon, I think he'll die." "I see. But first: If you would please silence the little "T" at the end of my name, I would be most happy." Frances blushed and said that she would.  
  
"Long ago I was at the height of my career in the Belgian Police Force. Early into the war, pardon, the previous one, I met a young soldier who was in my hometown with some of his comrades with arms." "In arms," I put in, but he didn't seen to notice. "He seemed to take an interest in the army, which is more than I must say for the rest of the group. That is what made him stand out. We soon became fast friends and shortly after that he was sent to France. Even more shortly après ca, I was cast out of my position and my country and sent to England. Fortunately I was allowed to stay, with some of my fellow countrymen, at a little cottage on the grounds of a tres riche lady and her family. One day I had gone to the post to send a little letter off. As I was entering, a young man collided with me in the most violent way. 'Ah! But he is rude!' I thought to myself, before I got a good look at him. What do you think he said Charlie?" I had been dozing, so his question took me by surprise and I said the first thing that popped into my head. "'I'm devilishly sorry,' I suppose." "Precisment. It was then that I recognized him as my friend the young soldier of before. He had left the front because of a grievous wound and he was most unhappy. Later he aided me with a case so complex, that it was a miracle that I solved it. After that he helped me with other little problems. During one of these he met a charming young lady right out of a comte des feys. She was accused of murder, but he fell in love with her none the less. In the end, it fell out that her sister was really the criminal." I straightened up. That sort of thing intrigued me. Frances, who still didn't guess where this story was going, whispered, "And then?" "Ben, boffe they were wed and moved far away. Four years after their marriage, a little girl was born." And he looked at Frances. He could no longer contain himself. "How goes it with mon ami Hastings?" Judith, who hadn't said a word the whole time piped up now. "Very much the same I daresay." "And a bit more so," I added. I was a bit surprised when Poirot aimed a sharp glance in my direction. Frances, always Father's girl, glared at me and told me to "stop being so silly." "Ah yes," said Poirot, paying no heed to Frances, "I miss even his powers of deduction." It was Judith's turn to snort; however Poirot didn't seem to pay as much attention to her. Instead, he turned to Frances. "I must now leave on a matter of great importance. It would not derange you if I put off our conversation to another time?" "No, of course not. How does dinner tomorrow sound?" "Magnificent! You may come here and then we may all depart. To a restaurant of my choosing, non?" "That sounds stupendous. We'll be here at seven tomorrow evening. Good- bye!" The little man ushered us to the door, and soon we were headed back to the dorm. "What shall we do for the rest of the evening?" asked Judith, who was gazing out Frances's window "I don't know what you're going to do, but I'm going to take a tour of the campus," said Frances. "Why don't you and Charlie go see a film? Or a play, better yet. You've never seen a real one you know." "Neither have you," I put in. "I think that Frances has hit upon something Charlie. Do you want to come with me?" "Might as well. I don't see what else I'm going to do." I said. Very soon Judith and I were headed downtown. In the end, we chose to go see a play that had just been translated into English from German, and was one of the most inexpensive. It was about the criminals of London. I enjoyed it immensely, though for the life of me I can't remember its name. Judith loved the music. She said it was all in the minor key, whatever that meant, and that it was so whimsical and sad sounding that she couldn't help liking it. We disagreed over the ending. I thought that it was wonderful that at the last minute, when the criminal was going to be hanged, the Queen reprieved him. Judith thought that it was an unrealistic ending with sappy music, and persisted in thinking so. We arrived at home rather late at night, so we tiptoed up, slowly got in our beds, and quietly went to sleep.  
  
I awoke in the morning only to find that Frances and Judith had already gone out to breakfast. It was already ten o'clock. This knowledge caused me to shake myself and change the time on my clock, which was still on the ranch time. I then got up and showered. When I emerged, my sisters had already returned. Frances was very excited because of the tour she had taken the night before. She was blabbing on and on about it. When Judith finally got her to stow it, we went out to see the sights. At lunch none of us could stop talking about our favorite tour. Frances adored Buckingham Palace, Judith loved the tombs at Westminster Abbey, and I was partial to the Tower of London. For some reason when I told Frances that that was my favorite because of the fact that it must have been a challenge to escape from, she abruptly changed the subject. After lunch we wondered around until seven o'clock finally showed itself and we turned towards Portland Place. Poirot received us warmly and directed us towards a French Restaurant of his own liking. When we arrived there, he sent Judith and I ahead to get a table. He and Frances carried on a mysterious conversation that lasted until the food arrived. Judith and I were to return to Argentina the next day so, much to my embarrassment, Poirot began giving me tips on seasickness. "You must breathe in deeply, and then out deeply. Compris?" "Er.... yes." "Never, could I stand le mer. Do you, Mesdemoiselles, how do you say it? Have your seas of the leg?" Frances laughed, "Our sea legs? Yes, we've got them. It's just Charlie." "Ah."  
  
The next day Frances passed me a letter to give to Father. "On no accounts open it, Charlie." "I see." We were standing on the dock, and already the sea was giving me unpleasant sensations. Judith was saying something, so I tried hard to pay attention. "We'll miss you Franny." "I'll miss all of you too," said Frances. "Say hello to the jungle for me Judith." "I will." "Look here," I said. "I don't want to break this up, but if we're not careful the ship will leave without us." "Oh Charles!" Judith groaned, but we got on the ship after all. We stood on the rail and waved as long as Frances was in sight. We were the last people left on deck. "One down," murmured Judith. "Four to go," and I was promptly sick over the rail. I spent most of the voyage like that. When we finally saw the coast of Montevideo, Uruguay looming up ahead, I was feeling awful. Judith practically dragged me off the ship and onto the train, and I remember nothing of the trip home. The warm air I had missed so much finally awakened me. All of a sudden I had a yearning for a mango. "Upsidaisies Charlie. Or do I have to carry you to the car?" "The car?" I asked vaguely. I noticed that we had arrived at the Pampas railway stop. I also noticed that Pedro was standing by a parked car, waiting to take us home. When we pulled up in front of the ranch, Mother and Nina came running out. Nina's first question was, "Where's Franny?" "She's at school," I said. Judith looked at the ground and said nothing. I was used to Nina ignoring me, I was a boy, but for Judith it was different. Judith had always wanted to have someone's love all to herself. She had especially wanted a little sister, but when Nina came, Frances scooped her up immediately and Nina preferred Frances, you could tell. Mother caught Judith's movement and hugged her. "I'm so glad you're back." Frances's departure left me thinking about my future. I thought that I would like to be a doctor. Therefore, I often ventured into the forest with Judith, who wanted to be a woman scientist, looking for species to analyze, or alynize, as Frances had so aptly put it years before. It was a year later. I was sixteen and Judith was fifteen. Nina's fifth birthday was a day away when Judith all of a sudden decided that we were all going on a picnic in the jungle. Judith had gradually been trying to get closer to Nina and now included her in all of our activities, much to my chagrin. We set out at about eleven, so the sun was already high in the sky when we finally decided to rest and have lunch. Nina was complaining about her aching feet, and if there's one thing I can't stand, it's a complainer. I therefore wandered off to ponder the meaning of life, or something of that sort. Pretty soon I was startled to here frightened girls' screams. I ran back to where they were. "Charlie, do something quickly!" Judith yelled, for standing there, large as life, was a jaguar. I said something unsavory and spat on the ground. The jaguar started circling them and licking its lips. It hadn't noticed me yet, and I preferred to keep it that way. I looked around for a rock or something, but all I had that was of use was a butter knife that I had put in my pocket for some incomprehensible reason that morning. I whipped it out just as the cat was ready to spring. "Yoo-hoo! Pussy! Puss-puss-puss-pussy! Over here you blasted feline!" The cat turned its head and looked me in the eyes. If I could, I would have taken back what I had just said and let my sisters be eaten, but it was too late and the cat was already flying through the air towards me. I jumped to one side and let it drop to the ground. I them hit it over the head with the handle of the butter knife. This however, did not have the desired effect, and instead of knocking the creature senseless, it caused it to hit me on the side of the face with its claws. I didn't think twice, but rammed the butter knife up to the hilt into the jaguar's chest. I half expected it to turn around and hit me again, but instead it fell stone dead on the forest floor. We were all frozen for a full minute. The silence was broken by Nina's sobs, which Judith tried to hush. I reached up to the side of my face that the jaguar had hit. It had started to sting and I couldn't see out of that eye. I soon found out why, for when I examined my hand I found that it was covered in blood. Judith was staring at me in a most uneasy way. "Charlie, would you like to use this napkin?" Nina had caught sight of me too and was silent. "What is it?" I asked. "Why are you all gawking at me?" Silence. "Let's go back. My d----- face is beginning to sting like h---. D--- it!" Nina opened her eyes wide." I didn't say that," I added. We began to walk home. My face didn't sting, on the contrary. A minute ago it had felt like living fire, now I couldn't feel it at all. By the time I arrived at home, I was seeing through a red haze. Mother met us at the door and sent Juana to get the doctor when she saw me. She sent Nina to get Father from the fields and then to stay there with Pedro. 'Ha!' I thought. 'If Frances were here she'd stop Nina from talking to Pedro. Now she can't do that.' While I was thinking these thoughts, Mother had me in the kitchen leaning over a pail of water, and she was washing my face. "What in the world happened?" "I killed the jaguar that was going to eat 'em." "Eat Nina and Judith?" "Yes. "Goodness. What did you kill it with?" "Your butter knife, I'm sorry, I forgot it." "That's OK. I'd probably toss it anyway. I'm just glad you're back with your head still in the right place Charlie." She hugged me and sat me down at the table to wait for Father and the doctor. I was glad that Mother hadn't exploded or something else. She had remained sane enough. Father on the other hand, was pacing back and forth the whole time that we were waiting for the doctor. Finally he appeared. "Dr. Paldito, could you take a look at Charlie?" asked Mother. The amiable practitioner took one look at me and began whispering to my Father. I wanted to hear what Dr. Paldito was saying, but I was beginning to feel lightheaded and before the good doctor could finish his sentence about loss of blood in the head, I was out like a light. When I woke up, it was dark, and someone was in my room. I can tell these things easily, because I have always had my own room and I know what an intruder sounds like. "Who's there?" "Not to worry. It is I." "Pedro! What are you doing here?" I switched on the lights. "Oh! Yours is worse than mine." "Your what? My what?" "Your face. What your scar will be. I take my hat off to you. When I killed my jaguar I was nineteen, and strong. The jaguar was also very small. But you, you kill a full grown cat with a butter knife!" "It wasn't full grown, I'm sure." "Ah! Excuse me but it was. Your sister, Judith, who knows the animals, says it was. So shall it be." "You said earlier about a scar...." "But yes. I overheard the doctor." "Tell me, does it look terrible? My face I mean." "At the moment, there is no face over there, but soon it will be whole again, and you can show off to the ladies. Yes?" "Yes."  
  
One year later, I was completely normal again, with the exception of a thick red line, running down from my left temple to my chin, which Judith claimed was distinguished. At first, Father couldn't get over the fact that I had killed a jaguar "too." He kept saying, "...but thank heavens that's all for now," whatever that meant. Soon, he stopped worrying about me and started worrying about my mother. She hadn't been completely well ever since Nina was born, but now she was under constant surveillance by Dr. Paldito. One day I was out dissecting a dead bird I had found in the grasses when Judith came running out of the house. "Charlie, Mother's taken to her bed and I don't know what to do. Dr. Paldito's with her." "There's nothing you can do. Here, help me with this. I've got to practice for my test into Oxford Medical School." "Charlie, you don't seem to comprehend. Mother's dying!" I sat straight up. "They've sent for Frances and everything! She's taking a plane here for goodness sakes! She'll be here tomorrow!" I still couldn't believe it. My only consolation was that I was about to leave and wouldn't have to be around the place much longer. The next day, Frances arrived. She had changed. She had lost the tan that all of us sported after being out in the sun all day and, more surprisingly, she was pretty. If I hadn't been her brother I would say that she was drop-dead- gorgeous. None of those things presented themselves to any of us at that moment. She had to see Mother. We all got a minute with her that day, because the doctor said that it was possibly her last. I won't recount mine. It was too painful. Because, you see, at seven o'clock that night, my Mother left. 


	3. Book Three: Judith

Book Three: Judith  
  
While I waved good-bye to Charlie, as Pedro drove him to the station, I felt an overwhelming sadness. The two people that had meant more to me than anything else were gone. Charlie had decided to leave early for Oxford because of Mother's death, and I was left alone. Well, not completely, but the fact that I was left with the three greatest nincompoops ever to walk the face of the earth, namely Father, Nina, and Frances (for a time) was hardly satisfying. I'm not naturally cruel enough to call them names like that, but I had an odd empty feeling inside me, and I had to fill it with something, even contempt. The first night that Mother was gone, I slept soundly. Charlie was silent during dinner, and during the fruit course told us that he was leaving early. I had remained as stony faced as I could during dinner, which by the way was nothing like it had been all the other days of my life, but I gave way to a bitter deluge of tears when I went to the barn for my night chores. When I reentered the house, Frances looked up from the dishes, which she was trying to wash. "Is it raining?" At first I didn't quite understand her reference, but then I noticed a tear still on my cheek. I wiped it away. "A bit." I saw her straighten, as if to go out and cover the crops. "That's my job now Frances, and I know when it is needed." I honestly didn't know why Mother's death caused me to bite peoples' heads off, but it did. "I'm sorry Frances. Where's Father?" "He's up in his room. I don't know what he's doing. I'd tell you to go to him if Nina weren't up there." "I see." I mounted the stairs anyway, and walked across the creaky floorboards outside their, no, Father's room (he did loosen them on purpose, no matter what Frances says.) He was sitting on his bed. Nina was asleep on the floor, surrounded by her toys. The sound of frogs croaking came in the open window. It was warm and there was a gentle breeze, making the grass rustle. Nina murmured a bit, and a solitary tear rolled onto her cheek. It stayed there a bit, and then it continued its way down her face and dripped off her chin onto the floor. The tear seemed to linger suspended in mid air, before it disappeared between the floorboards. My father sighed. I tore my gaze away from Nina and directed it towards Father. His face was as impassable as it usually was easy to analyze, or "alynize." His eyes were fixed on the window and his mouth was a thin line. All of a sudden he shuddered, as if he was trying to keep sobs inside and was tearing himself apart in the process. I was getting cramped, so I moved my foot and the floorboards went off. I was only surprised that they hadn't alerted Father earlier. He turned around abruptly, knocking a shoe off the bed. As he leaned over to pick it up he whispered, "Judith, I didn't see you." "You see me now." "Yes." He retrieved the shoe, got up, and put it in his sock drawer. He wasn't paying attention to what he was doing. At dinner he had put salt on his fruit. "And I could see you the whole time." He smiled at me and nodded his head. I sighed an inner sigh. I had been speaking cryptically, true enough, but I thought that he would know that I meant I had seen him and was ready to comfort him. I hadn't been speaking in a singsong way, but Father had seen in as the completion of an analogy. Nina rolled over and started sucking her thumb. Father sighed again. "Stop that. You aren't making things any better by expelling oxygen though your mouth." I stooped down and picked up Nina. I carried her into our room and set her down on her cot. She now shared a bed with me, but with the abrupt return of Frances, we had gone back to our regular habits. I returned to Father's room after I made sure that Nina was sound asleep after her voyage down the hall. When I reentered the room, I found Father looking through a large notebook that was full of his handwriting. "What's that?" "It's something I wrote when I was helping Poirot out on some little problems. You should read it some time. I sort of took the Watson approach and wrote it all down in first person." "Elementary," I murmured. "What?" "Nothing," I said, and went to bed.  
  
As I said earlier, I slept well. The next day Charlie departed and I went for a walk. My walk took me in the general direction of the jungle, but then I turned around and started towards the barn. Frances was there playing with Nina and the cows. I was glad that Frances was there, but I truly couldn't wait until she left the next day and I would get Nina back. I turned away from the barn and decided to finish my aimless walk. It wasn't really taking me anywhere. On the way back to the house, I ran full throttle into Pedro. I wasn't in the mood to remain upright, so I sank to my knees. After many exclamations, Pedro helped me up and brushed me off. "Pardon me little one." "Pedro, I'm sixteen. I'm hardly little." "But perhaps you feel little?" This was hitting it a bit too close to the mark. All I wanted at that moment was to be hugged by someone whose shoulder I could cry on, but no one seemed to know, and I was too proud to tell them. Pedro was a prophet once more when he said, "Perhaps you would like to cry. Perhaps you aren't sure of your future. Perhaps you need to be told by one you hold dear that all will be right again." "Perhaps." "Then go up to your father. You are not the only one to feel so." Pedro didn't know that this was impossible. He didn't know that of the people that I could talk to, one was dead and one was on the other side of the world.  
  
That night, I thought of what Pedro had said. Seeing as I couldn't fall asleep, I navigated the floorboards and crept into Father's room and took his stories from where they were kept. I then went downstairs so I wouldn't awake Nina and Frances, and entered the kitchen. I put on the lights and opened the book, which was thick and contained papers of various sizes. The first few hundred sheets were miscellaneous types of paper, but the last were Father's own stationary sheets, which could be found on his desk upstairs. I opened the book to the first set of papers and started reading. After a few hours, I had left my sadness behind; so funny was Father's account of various mysteries solved by Mr.Poirot. At about three in the morning I found the account of how Mother met Father, and I nearly cried, not with sadness, but with happiness. It's hard to explain how I felt while I read that story, but at the end, I knew a little more about my family than I ever had before. I then plunged into the next of many more amusing and mysterious tales, and by the time dawn came along and Father came downstairs, I had finished the book and was fast asleep with my head on the table. I slept well into the day. When I awoke it was almost evening and Francis was just setting off. I said good-bye to her and told her to say hello to Mr. Poirot for me. When she left, I realized that I was the next one to take that voyage across the water. The thought filled me with pride. I would be the first female in my family to be a successful scientist. I would see the world and learn what fun was, something I had asked Frances when I was young, to which she was unable to provide the answer.  
  
No matter what I had thought a year before, I was not ready to leave when the time came. I said good-bye to everything with a fondness that I didn't think I harbored. After I took my favorite little pig off my head, I turned to Father. "Well then," he said. "Well then." "Look, Judith, I've never really understood you, and well, look here girl...I'm really quite fond of you." I was trying not to cry, and Father's little outburst of tenderness didn't help matters. I choked out some response and hugged Nina before I whirled around and got into the car, to bury my face in my hands and sob. As Pedro pulled out of the gate, I waved to Nina and called back, "Take care of each other!" and then we went around the side of the barn and they were gone. Pedro's voice brought me back to the present. "Are you going to see much of that brother or that sister of yours?" "I'll be in the same place as Frances, but in a completely different department. She's in English. I probably will only see Charlie on holidays." "Too bad." "Yes, too bad." When we pulled up to the platform, Pedro opened my door and helped me out. "I'll miss you senorita." "I'll miss you too Pedro. Take care of the ranch." I turned to go. "And, Pedro?" "Yes?" "Send my love to Father." And I boarded the train.  
  
Docking at Dover wasn't at all like it was the first time I had arrived on the now familiar soil. I had no idea where I was going. Frances had taken the liberty of being smarter than me and I was not pleased. When I realized this I was sitting in a cab and the cabby was waiting for me to give directions. He said, noticing my hesitation, "Do you plan on goin' anywhere little missy?" I missed Pedro's 'senorita', "I.... I... Portland Place please." I didn't remember Poirot's number, but when I asked the doorman, he told me readily enough. As I rode the elevator up I prayed that he was at home. When I knocked at number one, I was greeted by dead silence. My last hope was shot. I sat down outside his door and took stock of my predicament. I could always call Frances from a public phone, which I didn't know how to operate I reminded myself, but my idiotic pride kept me from it. I could also go downstairs and ask for directions from the doorman, but I had counted on the banks being open to obtain English currency at the college, and had only brought one cab fare. The only thing to do was sit here and wait for Poirot to appear. Luckily, like Frances, I had decided to arrive early incase there was trouble with the boat or the like, so I wasn't expected at the Science House until Monday. The Science House was the dorm where all the scientists resided. Since there weren't very many females in this department the dorm could be regular sized, however some feminist had decided that the little dorm aspired to greater things, so it was called Science House. I was deep in these thoughts when I looked up to find Poirot looking down at me with a paper bag in his hands. I rapidly stood up. "Hullo Mr. Poirot." "Ah, it is the young Judith is it not? But how you have grown! Come in, arrange yourself. I shall only be a minute." He disappeared into another room while I arranged myself. When he emerged again I thought that he was going to embrace me in that fashion that had so frightened Charlie, but he didn't, instead he sat down. "What are you doing here?" "I've started school. I'm at the same place as Frances you see. And...ah... Mr. Poirot, I was wondering if you could tell me where it was, because... I've forgotten." I felt like blushing, but I left that sort of thing to the likes of Frances and Nina. "Ah, mon cherie but of course I will conduct you there." In about twenty minutes, I was safely settled in my room. My roommate hadn't arrived yet. It wasn't anything like Frances's building. It was built in the modern style and had a large statue of what could have been an amoeba, but was most likely a duck, in the courtyard. It was like nothing I had ever seen before, which was not unlikely.  
  
When I woke up in the morning, I went for a walk on the grounds. I stopped by Frances's dorm, but no one was there, so I left a message. When I returned to my room, it was to find another girl there, unpacking her bag. She looked up when I came in. She had reddish-auburn hair that was cut to her chin in the last fashion. She had brown eyes and a fairly expressionless face, somewhat like mine, but had the air about her of great intelligence and mischief. "Are you my roommate?" she asked. Her accent was like my father's and her voice was soft. "Yes. I'm Judith Hastings. And you are...." "Sandra Kyte. You're going to study science too?" "That's why I'm here." She went back to unpacking her bag. She put her cloths away and then proceeded to adorn her bedside table with various pictures of a group of people, presumably her family. I looked at my table. It had a particularly ridiculous picture of the whole family sitting on it. Pedro had taken the picture before everyone left- in one way or another- and he must have done it on purpose, for somehow he had captured each of us in a silly position. Nina, in Mother's arms, was about to fall to the ground, and Mother had her eyes open wide and her mouth in a shape somewhat like the statue outside. Father was scratching his head and looking at something in the sky, an action that gave him a rather hopeless air. Frances had obviously been rubbing her face, for she had a hand on either cheek, pulling her lips down into an odd grimace. Charlie was sneezing; that was all there was to it, and I myself was staring at the camera "like a deer in headlights" as my mother used to put it. "Is that your family?" Sandra's question caught me off guard. "Yes, it is," I must have been really flustered, for I went on to say, "My mother is dead, my sister is in the English department, my other sister is a spoiled brat, my brother is scarred for life, my father is a fool, and our servant is a potential murderer." Sandra greeted my tirade with silence. After a while she lowered her eyes to the floor. "I'm sorry I asked." "Quite alright. How's yours?" "My what?" "Your family." "Oh. Well you see... I haven't got one." Before I could apologize properly she explained. "I never knew my parents. My older brother was both for me, but two years ago he was out flying and he ran out of gasoline." She followed my gaze to the pictures, particularly to one of a young man with sandy brown hair. "That's my brother. The rest are the various families I stayed with the past few years." I mumbled that I was sorry. She said quite cheerfully, "Rubbish! It has been two years after all." I thought of my own loss of two years ago, and said nothing.  
  
Classes went very well, but Christmas was still a relief. I was particularly excited because Frances and her roommate were having a Christmas Eve party and they had invited Sandra, me, and most importantly, Charlie. I was quite stunned when I woke up three days before Christmas and looked out the window to find everything white. I jumped out of bed. Sandra, across the room, rolled over and groaned, "What is it?" "It's snow! I've waited so long for this!" "Well then carry your joy outside please," and she rolled over and went back to sleep. I ran outside in my slippers and robe and shuffled around in the snow. I made a snowman like the people do in books, and I bombarded it with snowballs. I ran back inside, ready for hot chocolate. I think about half way up the stairs I began to wish I had asked Mother to teach me how to make it. As I was getting dressed, I realized that Mother had learned it from Father who had learned it from Mr. Poirot. I wondered whether Frances had invited him to her party. A few days later, I found out. Sandra and I walked briskly through the snow to Frances's dorm. When we knocked at her door we could hear music coming from the other side. After a few seconds we knocked again and heard Frances's roommate from far away calling, "Was that the door?" "I should say so," murmured Sandra. We heard Frances's voice ask Charlie to get it. I was glad he had already arrived. Apparently Sandra hadn't heard what Frances had said, for when my tall brother answered the door, she jumped backwards. I myself rushed to hug him. His dark hair settled in waves on the top of his head and the long scar that ran down his face gave him a rather distinguished air. "Charlie! I haven't seen you in ages!" "I say!" exclaimed Charlie, stepping back, "You've grown up. I suppose you don't play cowboys with Nina and Pedro anymore." "No." Charlie turned towards Sandra, "And you are...." "Sandra Kyte. I've heard a lot about you. May I call you Charlie?" "Please do. Nothing bad I hope?" "Nothing of the sort." At this point Frances wondered where Charlie had gone so she came to the door. "Come in! You're our first guests." She hugged me and gave Sandra a nod. Her roommate, Annie, a girl slightly on the round side, took our coats and we all went into the living room. I talked to Annie for a bit, for she had been to Brazil, and asked her if she had known a fellow named Pedro Graduedez, her face darkened in concentration, but it turned out that she didn't. Gradually, the rest of the guests arrived. Most of them were in English, but Mr. Poirot was there and I asked him how to make hot chocolate. We kept talking for a while and soon the party started to break up. Sandra and I were about to leave when Charlie came over and waylaid us.  
  
"I have to go back to school Judith, so I guess the next time I see you will be a year from now." "I guess so." I was silent. I had waited all year to see Charlie and now it turned out that he wasn't even staying 'till New Year. He had turned towards Sandra. "Pleased to meet you Sandra." "You too Charlie." On our way back home, Sandra was unusually silent. When we finally arrived at our dorm I went to sleep at once, but Sandra stayed up a bit and when she did go to bed, she was crying.  
  
At the end of that year, Frances graduated. Father and Nina were going to come and visit, but the seas were stormy and they had to put off their voyage. Sandra was going to stay with a friend of hers, so I was left virtually alone to wait for the next term. I went a few places with Frances, who had found a flat, and Annie, but the really fun thing to do was go over to Hercule Poirot's apartment and talk to him. He was so intelligent that talking to him was like a breath of fresh air. I missed Sandra. I wrote Charlie a few times, but he only answered me once. Apparently he was going to do some observing in a hospital that would take up all of his time. In the end, I broke down and wrote home. Nina responded. She said that everything was fine and asked why I hadn't written earlier. Mr. Poirot took a trip down the Nile in August, so when Sandra returned she found me very lonely. "Where was Frances this whole time?" "I saw her." "Mr. Poirot?" "We talked." "Didn't your family write you at all?" "Yes." "Then why are you so lonely?" I didn't have the answer to that one. 


	4. Book Four: Nina

Book Four: Nina  
  
When I first went to England, it was for my older sister's graduation. It wasn't Frances's graduation, I had been really sorry to miss that, but Judith's. I had missed my brother Charlie's graduation from medical school too, but that was nothing terrible. I didn't actually remember him very well because he left home when I was almost five. My only recollection of Charlie was of him standing in the middle of a jungle, half of his face ripped off, and the other half looking grey, as if he was about to be sick. Frances I remember perfectly well, even though she officially left two years before Charlie. Frances was my best friend and second mother growing up. I only saw Frances one time after she left for London. It was when my mother died. Mother doesn't have a body in my memories. She is a snatch of a song and a warm hug. I think that mother's death was the turning point of everything. Charlie went away, Frances left for good, my father started sighing, and Judith retreated a bit inside herself. I got the invitation when I came back from school.  
dear all stop i'll be graduating in june stop please  
come stop charlie, frances, and sandra will be there stop sincerely judith Once I had stopped reading I rushed out to tell Father at once. "Judith sent a telegram! She invited us to her graduation." "Oh, really?" Father took the paper out of my hand and read it over. I saw his grimace at the end, which meant that he didn't really appreciate Judith's formal signature. "Well, we'll have to start getting ready, won't we?"  
  
We brought Pedro along on our trip. Judith and Charlie had always been his favorites. I was extremely excited during the whole voyage. It was my first overseas trip and what made it all the better for me was the unchecked excitement of my Father. He kept muttering and pacing all the while and when we finally docked at Plymouth he rushed as if with wings to get us on the train to London. The trip to London was amazing. I had never seen so much green in the same place. Also, it was fun to eavesdrop into other people's conversations to try and hear all the different British accents. I had assumed they were all like Father's but some were much more interesting. Father kept pointing out the window and murmuring things like, "Exeter! Went there once as a boy!" I think I must have fallen asleep, for when I woke up, Father was shaking me. "We've arrived Nina!" "Are we going to see Judith first?" "Ah, no. We're going to where we're staying and then we'll drop Pedro at his destination." "You'll be staying somewhere different?" I inquired of Pedro. "Yes senorita. I will be staying with your brother." Father's brow furrowed, but he found us a cab and soon we were pulling up in front of a rather tall, square building. I must have exclaimed something to the effect of, "What the.....?" for Father said, "This is Portland Place. I stayed here when I lived here and we'll be rooming with a friend of mine for our stay." I remembered a name that kept recurring in Judith's letters. "Mr. Poirot?" "I say! How did you know that?" "Judith wrote me about him. It seems that he scares Charlie a bit." "I don't doubt it," smiled Father. We left our bags at Portland Place to be sent up to Mr. Poirot's rooms, and then we drove to where Charlie was staying. The Crescent Hotel was an inexpensive, but truly pretty place. We asked for Charlie's room and were sent up because he was expecting us. I, on the other hand, didn't know what to expect. I really didn't think that his face would still be bleeding, but I had to keep down a shiver of horror when I thought of my brother. Father knocked. "Coming!" A wave of relief washed over me. His voice wasn't deep, or gravelly, instead in had a rather melodic ring to it that made me think of a crackling fire and someone reading out of a book. However, I still wondered what this brother of mine looked like. I expected that he would think me a spoiled brat; almost everyone did though I worked hard not to be one. The doorknob turning broke into my reverie, so slowly, it seemed, that he must have been doing it on purpose to frighten me. "Well, well, well! What have we here?" and he opened the door.  
  
No monster stood there. It was only a tall, dark haired, young man with black eyes and a pleasing expression. The only thing that remained to remind me of that terrible day in the jungle was a thick red line that ran down the side of his face. His face broke into a large smile. "Pedro! Father! Nina! I didn't expect you for another day! Do come in! I'm sorry it took me so long to open the door, the hinges here are not the best and the filthy swine, sorry Nina, of a manager forgot to fix it before I arrived." He turned to me and looked me over. I felt like I did in Dr. Paldito's office, and then I recalled that Charlie too was a doctor. "My word! So it worked!" "What worked?" I asked. "Minime-frances-no-nyet-nine-non Syndrome. It's done you some good." "Excuse me?" I asked, somewhat baffled. Father was also looking at him with a puzzled expression, but Pedro was smiling indulgently. "I am pleased to see you again Mister Charlie." "And I you, Pedro old chap. You can sleep on the bed if you wish and I can take the couch. Where are you staying?" He turned towards Father and I with an inquisitive air. I wondered if he had learned all these flowery British phrases at Oxford. "At Poirot's," replied Father. "Ah ha." We told Charlie that we'd see him the next day for the pre-graduation festivities and then we took a cab back to Portland Place. "Are we going to see Frances after this?" I asked. Father had been looking out the window. "Hmmmm?" "I said.... never mind." "We're going to see Judith and Frances tomorrow at the picnic for the scientists at Reagent's Park." "I see." As the cabby parked the taxi in front of the apartments and said, "Four 'n six Guv," Father got out and went inside. I turned to the cabby and shrugged, handing him the money I kept in my sock. "Tha's only four luv." "I'm sorry. Does it matter?" "Not really. Ou' you get." I got out of the taxi and soon it sped away, leaving me alone on the sidewalk. A man in brown bumped into me going in to the building. "Sorry miss." He tipped his hat and looked down at me, puzzled. "'Aven't I seen you somewhere before?" "Not likely. I just arrived in England." Then, struck with a sudden idea, "Do you know which floor Mr. Hercule Poirot is on?" "I was just going up there myself." I followed the man into an elevator. I had read about them, of course, but to find myself in one was an odd feeling. I must have let out an exclamation or the like, for the man turned towards me to ask me something else. "From far away?" "As far as it gets." "Where exact..." But his words were cut off by the arrival of the elevator at its destination. I followed him out of the elevator. He knocked at the door and then, struck by a sudden thought, he whirled around. The door opened at that very moment. My father stood in the doorway, his face wearing such a look of complete elation that I almost didn't recognize him. I heard the man next to me whisper, "Blimey!" and then a rather incomprehensible babble broke out. "....thought you were sunk in the Amazon....." "That's in Brazil......" "...never writing, sending all your children to Poirot and not tellin' me..." "...been a bit busy..." All the mayhem was silenced by the arrival of a short, somewhat round little man, with an egg shaped head and the biggest moustache that I'm sure there ever was. "Mon ami Hastings, le bon Japp, are we going to make this lovely young lady stand out in the hallway all day? Non, you will both move aside and we will have a little tisane." Father pulled a face, but we all followed the little man, Mr. Poirot, quite willingly. Once we were inside, Mr. Poirot turned to the man in brown. "Chief Inspector Japp, this is the beautiful fourth daughter of the Hastings. Nina, is it not?" he inquired, glancing at me. "Y-yes," I stammered. "Pleasure," said Chief Inspector Japp, holding out his hand. At this point I left. I would be sleeping on a little cot in Father's room. As I unpacked my things, I wondered what my other siblings would be like. Would my reunion be as joyful as Poirot, Japp, and Father's?  
  
"Nina!" A cry rang out across Reagent's Park. I turned around from my post at Father's side while we looked for my wayward relations. Frances was walking quickly across the grass. She was taller then she had been, with brownish blonde hair and astonishing blue eyes. I broke into a run. We hugged each other and then Frances said, "You're twelve now, right?" "A week ago, and you're twenty five." She laughed and we made our way over to Father. Frances's eyes, which were sparkling as she embraced Father, grew dark as she looked over his shoulder. Pedro and Charlie were walking towards us over the grass. I thought I heard Frances murmur, "What is he doing here?" under her breath, but I couldn't be sure. Outwardly, she was doing her best to compose her face, which had turned pale. "What..." but I was silenced by a motion from her hand. "Hello senorita Frances!" called Pedro. "Pedro," Frances coldly acknowledged him with a nod. She smiled at Charlie, but all greetings were cut short by the arrival of two girls. One of them was Judith. She was no taller. Her black hair was combed back from her face rather carelessly. Her face broke into a smile as she saw Charlie and Pedro. She also managed a smile for Frances, and she hugged Father and I, but they were hugs without warmth. The second girl was a stranger to me. Perhaps this was the Sandra mentioned in the telegram. Sandra, for Judith's introduction proved me right, was of medium height, with reddish auburn hair and rather sad eyes. These eyes lost some of their sadness when they beheld Charlie, and a grin spread across her face. She smiled warmly at Frances and shook Father, Pedro, and my hands. She seemed a thoroughly pleasant girl, and clearly Charlie was taken with her, for a brief flush spread across his face, followed by a not very convincing frown. "I'm very pleased to meet you Miss Kyte," said Father, sighing. "Oh, please call me Sandra." I thought she would say the accustomed "so-and-so has told me soooo much about you" but she did not. "Shall we go to the tents and get some lunch?" asked Charlie. "I'm devilishly hungry." "I'm under the impression that that's what we're here for," said Judith dryly. In the tents we met a rather round girl who Frances waylaid and introduced to us as Annie Fitzwalter, her former roommate. Apparently Annie's younger brother was graduating also. After lunch, which was rather late in the evening, it began to get dark, so Father suggested a walk. Pedro and Charlie went off with Sandra and Judith for a ramble, while Frances and Annie declined and said that they would go sit by the pond instead. Father and I strolled off. About a half an hour later, we headed back to the tents to collect our picnic basket and leave. I was a little way behind Father, sniffing the English air and feeling absolutely at peace with the world, when a bloodcurdling scream rent through the air. I started running towards Father. It died down, only to rise again in a piercing wail and disappear.  
  
Father was already running in the direction of the screams, and soon I lost him in the crowd. I myself wanted to know the reason of these cries. I had only once before felt terror such as this, and that was when a fully-grown jaguar was looking at me and licking its lips. I followed the crowd of graduates and their families who were running in the same direction. Soon, the pond loomed ahead, its water black as the light failed. At the sight of the pond I was filled with an unreasonable terror. Hadn't Frances gone to the pond? Yes she had, but wasn't that Frances leaning against a tree? I started elbowing my way to her and soon stood before her. She was pale and shaking, her eyes darting back and forth, with a look of sublime fear. Her hands clutched her stomach and she looked as if she were going to be sick. "Frances, what...." I was cut off by Charlie, who had come from the woods. His sudden appearance caused Frances to jump. He also seemed shocked by her state and advanced towards her with his arms open. "What is it Franny?" Instead of telling him everything, Frances shrank away from his embrace and started crying, large tears rolling down her face. The mysterious way Frances was acting caused me to try to find out some more about what had gone on. I elbowed my way over to the edge of the pond. The first person I saw was Sandra. She too was looking rather queasy, but her scientist's training had her ready for anything. Judith was standing beside her, her face closed, her eyes dark, but her hands darting back and forth, back and forth like two nervous butterflies. Pedro and Father were bending down, looking at something. I got closer, and a shudder shook my frame. I would have fallen had Pedro not suddenly caught sight of me and caught me. Father turned towards us. His eyes were serious; none of the old vacancy was there. "Get Nina out of here Pedro, and get Mr. Poirot and the police." Pedro bore me away, but I had already seen it. Pedro and Father had been looking at a corpse. It was Annie, and she was stabbed with a butter knife.  
  
I woke up the next morning with a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. I rolled over on my cot and recalled the terrible events of the night before. At once I glanced at my father's bed. He was in it and snoring steadily, but he was fully dressed and didn't look as if he had been there long. I wrapped my dressing gown around me and entered the small sitting room. Mr. Poirot was there, looking as if he had slept well, just about to start tapping on a hard boiled egg. I had eaten nothing since about three the previous day, so the sight of the egg filled me with hunger. "May I join you?" "But of course ma petite." I sat down at the small coffee table right across from Mr. Poirot, and bit into a piece of toast. Mr. Poirot took no notice of me, but I just had to ask him something. "Who did it?" I blurted out, before I thought about what I was saying. "You speak of the unfortunate death of Mademoiselle Annie, no?" I choked out my answer, "Yes." Mr. Poirot's comical face sobered. He put aside the breakfast tray and looked me straight in the eye. "I was hoping you could aid me with that." After I told Mr. Poirot all of the events of the night before, he stood up and went over to the telephone. "Chief Inspector Japp please." He paused, waiting to be connected. "Japp?" Pause. "Ah, who?" Pause. "Yes, I have." Pause. "Who? Mais, repetez." Another pause, longer now, then all the others. "Oh mon Dieu." Poirot sat down heavily on the couch. "Very well then Japp. Yes I will. Good-bye." He hung up, and turned to me with an expression that already told me half of the truth. "Your brother Charlie has been arrested for the murder of Annie Fitzwalter."  
  
Sitting in Chief Inspector Japp's office later that day, I ran over the events in my head. Charlie had appeared out of the woods, from the direction of the pond. He had left with Judith, Sandra, and Pedro, but he was not with them at the crime scene. Frances had shrunk away from him, as if he were a ghost. At the bottom of it all, was the butter knife, and the remembrance of the fearless and merciless way Charlie had killed that jaguar. Things looked very black for him, even if we could dig up something good for him, it still would be outweighed by negative charges. I bent my head to hide the wetness in my eyes. I didn't remember Charlie very well, but he was my brother. He had saved my life. I owed him as great a debt as there were stars in the sky, and this was the time to pay it back. I stood up. Father asked me where I was going and I mumbled something about the powder room. As I left the office, Japp entered it. To tell the honest truth, I didn't want to witness my father's grief anymore, and I thought that an awkward scene would arise with friend challenging friend. It the waiting room, Judith and Sandra were sitting side by side and Frances was a few chairs off. Pedro was sitting close to Judith, but as far away from Frances as possible. As soon as I entered the room, Sandra glanced up hurriedly, but said nothing. My guess was that she was a little nervous to say anything in front of everyone else, so I asked her if I could talk to her and we both entered the powder room. Once inside, Sandra imploded. She seemed to get shorter, and her face paled. She had to lean against the rim of the sink for support and when she spoke her voice was barely above a whisper. "He didn't do it." What she said was more than a wish, she seemed certain. "How do you know?" Sandra seemed reluctant to explain herself, when she did, and it was with much hesitation. "Charlie and I have had an affection for each other for a long time, so when we went off with Judith and Pedro, we let then wander ahead and we walked slowly, taking in the night. Soon we came upon the pond and Charlie told me to stop and sit down on a bench. We talked for a little bit, and then Charlie seemed to get preoccupied. He kept glancing at his watch and fidgeting. At about quarter to seven, he...." Sandra trailed off and a look of pain crossed her face. "At quarter to seven, he...." I prompted. "He got down on his knees and proposed to me. I said yes." All thought of the moment fled from my mind. "Congratulations!" I exclaimed, and then I could have bitten my tongue for the fresh look of suffering on Sandra's face. She went on, "We separated and on my way back I met Judith. Pedro had left to look for Frances earlier and..." I cut her off, "What? Pedro had left.... we've got to tell Japp!" I virtually dragged Sandra out of the powder room and we swept by an astonished waiting room and into Japp's office. "Listen to Sandra!" I exclaimed, thrusting her into my vacated seat. "I believe she has something to tell you."  
  
That night, we congregated at Poirot's. Charlie joined us, sitting next to Sandra, a diamond sparkling on her finger, but Pedro wasn't one of our company. Poirot explained it all. "Pedro has killed a man. He thinks he is free-scot..." "Scot-free," murmured Charlie. "....but he is not," continued Poirot, not heeding Charlie, "for a young girl has seen the crime and sends him to prison for ten years." "Annie?" asked Frances. "Oui. Later, when he has the opportunity to come to England, and even more meets this same girl at a picnic, the temptation is too great. He seizes a butter knife, unconsciously copying Charlie, and waits for his chance. It comes, he strikes, and Mademoiselle Francis thinks it is Charlie in the poor light. Fin de l'histoire. Miss Nina's little grey cells come through. I believe," he added, seeing my father's look of pride, "I know which side of the family they came from."  
  
The End 


End file.
